


Kastle Imagines and Drabbles

by FFanon



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, kastle - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-09
Updated: 2017-09-14
Packaged: 2018-08-20 08:18:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 8,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8242619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FFanon/pseuds/FFanon
Summary: Drabble; a little wink at the end for fellow 'Mob City' fans :)





	1. Never Let Go

He’s never had to come to Karen before for help with his wounds, he’s always managed on his own. But this time, he knew he needed another set of hands and she was the only person he trusted.

She let him in immediately, she always does. She can see he’s hurting and holding his shoulder.

“You think I could ask ya to stitch me up? If you say no, I won’t blame ya.” He gruffly asks - the sight of a needle being pulled through bloody skin isn’t for everyone.

Karen, always one to worry about others, is eager to help in anyway. “Whatever you need me to do Frank. Just…you may have to walk me through it.”

“Not a problem ma'am. Thank you.”

He shrugs his jacket off and enters her small bathroom with her. They’ve been in close proximity before, but there’s always been something there between them - hanging there, waiting for one of them to take hold.

He attempts to take his shirt off but he grunts quietly at the pain and is obviously having trouble.

“Frank…” she offers, motioning to help him. He’s facing the mirror and looks at her in it. He hasn’t had a woman touch him since Maria. He gives her a short, quick nod.

Karen has never touched Frank before, sure he threw his body over hers, but that was it. This felt more…intimate. And she has never seen him shirtless before. She doesn’t think any woman has since his wife.

She gently grabs the hem of his shirt and pulls up. He takes his good arm out first and slowly slides his bad arm out. She immediately turns and drapes his shirt on the edge of the tub. When she turns around, she hears herself gasp quietly at the view in front of her.

She immediately curses herself as she sees him lower his head just slightly and notices his knuckles grip the sink’s edge. His back is an artwork of scars. Different sizes, different shades. They don’t cover it completely, but he has enough to make her react.

She recovers quickly, but she knows her reaction had some kind of effect on him.

He walks her through the stitching and she handles it better than she thought she would. His skin feels hot to the touch and also softer than she’d imagine. When she cuts the leftover thread, signaling she’s finished, neither move.

She steps back and looks at his back again. Before her brain realizes what she’s doing, her hand reaches out and she brushes her fingertips over one of his larger scars. His muscles tense under her, but he never moves. 

These are from his past. She can tell by the faded color and their location. If he needed help stitching his shoulder blade, there’s no way he stitched these on his back. His wife…she had to be the last one to touch them. At the thought, she hesitantly pulls her hand back - feeling like she just committed a sin. 

“They’re from my time in the military.” His gaze is on her in the reflection.

She glances at him, taking that as his way of saying it’s okay. She reaches out again and runs her hand over a couple more. She sees his back move as his breathing seems to quicken. She already feels her pulse quickening.

She moves her hands to his lower back, sliding them outward to above his hips as she leans closer to his bare back. When she brushes her lips against the scar in the center, her hands continue sliding until they’re wrapped around him resting on his stomach.

He inhales at the feeling of her soft lips against his skin. His hand moves, covering hers. She brushes her lips over another one, kissing it gently.

“Ma'am” he whispers, almost moans if he’s honest with himself.

Karen is pulled out of her trance at his voice. She pulls back, sliding her hands back the way they came. His hand falls flat against his stomach as her hands disappear from underneath.

Karen knows she’s blushing and feels incredibly foolish as she steps back away from him. Frank turns around to face her. She still feels his touch on her hand - she runs it through her hair nervously.

“I’m sorry…I don’t know why I thought that was a good idea…” she wishes she had a better explanation than that. She can’t even look at him she’s so embarrassed. 

“Hey…I wasn’t pushin’ you away.”

She looks at him. His face has this look of pure adoration – now her blushing has a different cause. She looks down at his dog tags and takes them in her hand as she takes a step closer. She rubs her thumb over his name.

She looks up at him, gently tugging his dog tags. He smiles softly, getting the hint, and moves closer. He reaches out and brushes his thumb against her cheek gently as his other hand finds her hip.

Karen slowly leans into him, still afraid to spook him. She rests her forehead against his, their noses just barely touching.

“Frank…” she whispers against his lips, giving him one last chance to pull away.

She’s so close his heart yearns.

“Two hands, remember?” He just barely brushes his lips over hers.

“Never let go.” She closes that sliver of space between them, kissing Frank Castle for the first time.


	2. A Good Man

Karen jumps when her apartment window flies open suddenly. Frank steps inside, a bloody hand to his neck.   
  
“It looks worse than it is.” He says gruffly before she says anything.   
  
“Frank!” Karen grabs a dish towel quickly handing it to him. He accepts it, replacing his hand with the towel.   
  
“You mind if I clean this up and then ask you to help stitch me? It’s at a hard angle for me to take care of myself.  It ain’t deep, just deep enough for some thread.”   
  
Karen nods, “Yea, of course.”   
  
She doesn’t have to tell him where her bathroom is. For one, her apartment is small - anyone can spot it. Two, Frank’s been to her place before. He’s dropped by before, except he usually knocks at the window first.   
  
Frank walks into the bathroom and manages to shrug his jacket off with one arm.  He removes the dish towel and checks out the damage in the mirror. The bleeding has slowed but it’s still fresh.   
  
Karen follows him in, grabbing her first aid kit from the kitchen.  Frank’s shirt is covered in blood, not his own, and he takes notice of Karen’s white t-shirt.  He takes off his shirt.   
  
Karen may have thought what Frank looked like shirtless once or twice, but actually seeing him shirtless was a whole other thing. She bites her lip slightly and moves to the sink.   
  
Frank’s standing right next to her, still inspecting his neck and then doing a once over of his torso and back for any more.   
  
Karen’s hands are shaking slightly as she threads the needle, having never stitched someone before, especially on the neck.   
  
Frank turns around, backside against the sink, leaning on his hands that are gripping the sink’s edge.   
  
The cut is just under his jawline, in order for Karen to effectively stitch it she’s got to get close to Frank, very close.   
  
She steps into him, her leg between his. She almost forgets to breathe. His dog tags hang against his tanned, chiseled chest. Her chest brushes them as she leans in. She gently, but hesitantly reaches out to touch his skin and push it together as she starts sewing.   
  
She tries to focus solely on the wound, but when you’re this close to Frank Castle for the first time, it proves difficult.   
  
She takes notice of the bob of his adam’s apple when she takes a breath, her exhale spreading over his skin.   
  
She notices the natural heat radiating off his body, she notices the tiny little scars on his collarbone that you wouldn’t see unless you were this close.   
  
He never moves. He’s as still as a statue, only his chest rising with each breath.   
  
As she finishes, she ties off the thread. Holding the thread with one hand, she leans forward to grab the scissors off the sink. Her arm brushes his, her chest pushed against his. She notices his knuckles are a little white, his grip obviously getting tighter.   
  
She moves back and snips off the end of the thread. As she leans foward again, putting the scissors back down, she stills. Frank’s hand has slid onto her lower back.   
  
She feels him turn into her, his other hand still on the edge of the sink. She straightens a little as he slowly buries his nose in her hair, nuzzling her temple. She tilts her head just slightly, moving into his touch. Her face is just about right against his shoulder.   
  
When she feels him place his lips against her temple, she breathes his name, “Frank”.  If she knew that would snap him back into reality and he’d slowly pull away, she would have kept quiet.   
  
She sees him glance down, rubbing the back of his neck. She puts her hand over his thats on the sink’s edge.   
  
“…were you going to kiss me?” She asks softly.   
  
His thumb hooks around hers, “…was thinkin’ bout it.”   
  
They finally look at eachother.  She turns her body to face his, removing her hand from his as she turns but quickly replacing it with her other.   
  
“You know…you’re always telling me to stay away from you, but I never told you to stay away from me.”   
  
He slowly turns towards her, hands still connected on the sink. He slowly reaches up and brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, “You deserve better than me. I can’t give you anything.”   
  
She reaches up, her hand wrapping around his and guides him to her cheek, still holding his hand, “I deserve a good man and I’m looking at one. You don’t have to give me anything Frank, I just want you to show me.“

The calloused pad of his thumb rubs small circles on her porcelain skin. She moves her hand from his to gently grip onto his dog tags.  He leans in, their hands lacing together on the sink. As his nose brushes against hers, she speaks.  "Actually I do need you to give me one thing…” She presses her fingertips to his lips briefly signaling to let her finish.  “A promise that you won’t run away from me after this.” She grips his dog tags again, her fingers feeling the engravings.

“Run away? Ma'am, you’re who I want to run _to_.”  Karen blushes with a small smile.  Frank lightly ghosts his lips over hers, before kissing her fully. The gentleness of his kiss a stark contrast to his violent reputation.  

Karen swears it was that kiss where she met the old Frank Castle.


	3. Secret Visit

Frank is in the hospital again because he, “The Punisher”, got arrested. What the media didn’t know was that Karen was with Frank the night he got caught. She was investigating a human trafficking ring which led her to a warehouse. Frank had seen her and inserted himself into her investigation to look out for her – she should have expected it since they were technically in a relationship and have been for the past couple months and that man is nothing but protective.

They heard the sirens close by and had nowhere to run. Frank saw an exit but knew only one of them would make it out in time, and he sure as hell wasn’t going to have it be him. He basically forced Karen through the first floor window seconds before the police busted in. Since he was injured from his nightly activities, they had to take him to the hospital to be treated first; so that’s where he is, surrounded by the familiar red tape.

Karen was going stir crazy not being able to see him or talk to him. It had been about a week so far. If she only knew that Frank was having a more difficult time because not only could he not contact her, but he didn’t know if she was safe. He didn’t have access to any news of any kind so he didn’t know if those trafficking scumbags ever caught up with her.

He’s sitting up in his hospital bed, limbs strapped down. It’s pretty late and he can’t sleep, not unusual. He’s got two cops stationed outside his door in a mostly empty hallway as to keep his violent ways away from the public – they still don’t understand he doesn’t hurt the innocent.

He hears two thuds outside his door and knows that his security detail just got knocked out. He groans – some assholes are coming to kill him when he can’t even fight, fucking cowards he thinks. He tries pulling on the straps holding him down but he knows there’s no point. All of a sudden a slim, hooded figure walks in – he stops fighting against the straps when he catches the sight of striking, blonde hair.

Karen pushes the hood down; she’s got one of Frank’s black hoodies on because she doesn’t own any – he notices and he loves it.

Karen gets teary at the sight of him in the same situation he was in when she first met him.

“Frank…” she whispers, choking back a small sob.

He smiles softly, “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

She rushes over and takes off the straps from his arms which are instantly around her, pulling her into his lap. She wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him.

“I didn’t know if you were safe. Didn’t know if those assholes found out you were there.” Frank explains, looking at her and smoothing her hair back.

“I’m okay.” She loosely grips his hospital gown at his chest.

Frank nods then runs his hand down her arms and her sides, almost like he’s making sure she isn’t a dream, “God, I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She cradles his face in her hands and kisses him softly. When they pull away, her hands go back to his chest.

“The guards….you knock ‘em out with the .380?” Frank jokes.

Karen smiles, a couple tears still on her cheeks from her happiness at seeing Frank, “No…I sort of begged Matt to help me get in here.”

“And altar boy actually agreed?”

“Yeah, he’s in the hallway keeping watch. I only have a couple of minutes.”

Frank, knowing Matt’s got super hearing, turns towards the wall, “Thanks Red.” He hears a light knock on the wall in response.

“Listen, we’re going to get you out somehow. Matt and I are working on a plan.” Karen reassures him.

“I know you will. You’re a pitbull when you need to be.” Frank chuckles.

Karen smiles, but she loses it almost instantly because she hears a double knock on the wall, time to go.

Frank’s not stupid, he knows what the signal means.

“See you at home?” Frank smiles, leave it up to him to make jokes at a time like this just to try to make her smile.

Karen smiles, a couple new fresh tears making their way down her face. Frank reaches out and wipes them away gently.

“Hey, I’ll see you soon.” Frank reassures her softly. 

Karen nods, kissing him again. Frank’s the first to pull away with Karen reluctantly doing the same.

“You gotta get outta here before anyone sees ya.” Frank tells her.

Karen slowly gets off his lap and starts doing his straps again so it doesn’t look like anyone was with him. She finishes the last strap and puts her hand in his.

He squeezes her hand gently, “You know you’re crazy for doing this” he says with a proud smile.

“I know.” She says proudly.

“C'mere” He whispers – Karen leans over and gives him one more kiss, one that will last in Frank’s memory a little while.

She pulls away and leaves the room.

“Look out for her, Red.” Frank says to the empty room.

He hears a light knock in return.


	4. S'mores

It’s 2:30 in the morning when Frank drops by Karen’s place. The window is unlocked for him so he makes his way inside and notices Karen isn’t there. Her bed looks like it was slept in - he can’t help but instantly worry that she’s been taken.

Before his thoughts have a chance to get darker, he hears keys in the lock before Karen walks in. She has leggings on and the t-shirt he knows she likes to sleep in. In her hand, a plastic grocery bag.

“Where were you?”

Karen gasps, dropping the bag, hand flying to her chest, “Jesus Christ Frank!”

“Sorry.” He makes it to her in two quick strides, bending down to gather her spilled items.

“Just saw you weren’t here and…” he stops talking as he sees a Hershey bar, graham crackers, marshmallows, and wooden skewers.

He looks up at her with a smirk. He stands up, handing her the bag back, “S'mores, ma'am?”

Karen shrugs, “I couldn’t sleep. Got a craving for s'mores. Thank god for New York City bodegas,” she glances over her shoulder at him as she turns towards the counter, “You want one?”

Frank chuckles, “Yea, why not?” He shrugs off his coat and slips his Punisher vest over his head, hanging it on a chair.

Karen takes out a plate, she sets up two graham crackers on it, placing squares of chocolate on each. She pierces a couple marshmallows onto a skewer and turns the flames of the stove on. The second she holds the marshmallows over the flames, they catch on fire causing one side to turn black before she can blow it out.

She feels him sidle up next to her, taking her wrist gently, holding it away from the flame, “How ‘bout I take care of the roastin’ so you don’t burn the whole building down?”

Karen rolls her eyes, but chuckles, “Be my guest…you’re such a control freak.” She lets him take the skewer from her hand.

“Not wantin’ to be burned to a crisp doesn’t make someone a control freak.” He gently bumps her hip with his own, keeping his free hand on her other hip to keep her close, so he can move in front of the stove.

Frank holds the marshmallows a little higher than she did, spinning the skewer slowly, getting a nice light brown color.

“You’re just full of surprises.” Karen stays in his grasp, resting her elbow on his shoulder.

“Lisa and Frank Jr. loved s'mores. I’d make ‘em for 'em when we’d go camping in the backyard…” He trails off at the end.

Karen looks at him, his eyes stay on the flames. She moves her hand that’s draped over his shoulder to the back of his neck, running it through the back of his hair as she places a light kiss to his bruised cheek.

She hears him sigh softly at the memory before turning the flames off. He turns, holding the marshmallows up at proof of how good he did.

Karen slides the plate to him to let him finish them up. He grabs the crackers, sliding a marshmallow on, using the sandwiched crackers to pull it off the skewer.

They each pick up a s'more and 'cheers’ with them before taking a bite.

Karen laughs as she pulls it away from her mouth, a marshmallow string refusing to break. She feels it fall against her chin.

Frank meanwhile gets melted chocolate on his upper lip and some marshmallow in the corner of his mouth. When he sees Karen, he emits a genuine laugh - a laugh that causes Karen’s heart to swell as she’s never heard it before.

Frank reaches out and gently peels the string from her chin, his laugh down to a chuckle, and drops it in the sink. In return, she swipes her thumb against the corner of his mouth, then pops her thumb into her mouth to lick off the marshmallow.

She still looks at him with a grin, before gently grabbing his chin and pulling him closer. She kisses him, getting the chocolate off his lip.

She feels his hand snake around her waist, finding her lower back and then pull her closer against him.

The sweet kiss comes to an end when they both pull away. She lets his chin go, running her hand down his chest. He brushes her cheek with the back of his finger, a small smile playing at his lips, “I don’t know what’s sweeter - you or the damn s'more.“


	5. Invitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble; a little wink at the end for fellow 'Mob City' fans :)

Frank grabs a beer from the fridge and notices an invitation hung up on the door. It’s for some benefit gala the Bulletin is hosting in a few weeks.

“Who you bringing to this?” He asks as he takes a sip of his beer.

Karen, busy with an article, glances at the invitation he’s gesturing to before looking back at her laptop, “Foggy, I guess.“ 

—

For the next couple of weeks Frank lets his beard grow out, as well as letting his hair grow just a little longer than normal.

Karen also takes notice how there hasn’t been any fresh injuries on Frank when he’s been coming home after a night out. The old cuts and bruises have since healed, he looks…normal.

The night of the benefit, Karen hears Foggy knock on her door. She opens it to find Frank instead.

There’s Frank in a new suit, tie and all. With his new beard and bruise-free face, he looks almost unrecognizable.

Karen smiles at the sight.

"So this is what you’ve been up to.” She states, brushing her fingers on his beard.

Frank gently takes her hand and kisses the back of it, “Figured I should be the lucky guy showing you off, not Nelson.”

Frank looks her up and down. Her body fitting like a glove in her dark teal dress.

“You look absolutely incredible,” Frank breathes, awe struck by her beauty.

Karen blushes and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, “Thank you…” she moves forward, kissing his cheek, “…and thank you for doing this, Frank.”

He nods, “You should probably call me ‘Joe’ tonight though, otherwise you might blow my cover,” he says with a smirk.

He makes a good point.

“Where’d you come up with ‘Joe’?”

“Joseph is my middle name.”

As Frank takes her hand and walks towards the stairs, she asks, “And your last name tonight?”

Frank thinks for a second, “Teague, old family name."


	6. Second Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is more about protective Frank (with a touch of Kastle)

The bar is a real hole in the wall. There’s a constant thin veil of cigarette smoke and the various stains that litter every surface almost form their own pattern.

Frank has been sitting at the bar for the past half hour. He’s doing recon tonight. His glass of whiskey is only a few hairs lower than when he first got it. He stays to himself naturally, not hard to do in a place like this. He keeps the brim of his hat a tad lower than deemed normal and he feels the weight of the piece he has tucked in his jacket.

He’s not the only loner in the place. He quickly spotted at least three guys, all alone, that were clearly regulars. It’s the group of bikers crowded into the corner that has his attention.

That is until a faint sweet floral scent catches his nose and a glance over his shoulder, at the door, reveals its source - Karen Page.

Her eyes search over the room before widening when spotting Frank. He gives a short, quick shake of the head before turning away from her.

She understands and casually walks over, sitting next to Frank at the bar.

“Vodka soda, please.” She politely orders from the bartender. Frank can instantly see how smitten the guy is with her already. It doesn’t surprise him one bit.

As she feigns searching in her purse, he hears her ask him, “What are you doing here?”

He brings his glass to his lips, keeping his eyes off of her, “Could ask you the same thing,” sipping his whiskey.

He hears the sigh before she painfully admits, “Blind date.”

He licks his lower lip, glancing into his glass, before putting it back down on the wood surface, “Recon.”

A pang of jealousy hits him in the stomach thinking about her dating. It’s that pang that makes him ask her, “So what do you know about this guy?”

Karen shifts uncomfortably on the stool, sipping her drink.

“My friend Wendy works with him at New York Presbyterian, he’s a doctor there.”

Frank can’t help but steal a glance at her, “Guy’s a doctor and he takes you here? He sounds like a real winner,” he monotonically shares.

She smirks,”No, I picked this place. I live in Hell’s Kitchen, I need a guy who doesn’t scare easily.”

He raises an eyebrow at her statement, and his mouth twitches up into a grin, “That right?”

He watches as her tongue licks the corner of her mouth, tasting the drop of vodka left behind after her sip. She nods.

The door opens and they both look over their shoulders. There’s a man, about six feet tall, in a suit and hair gelled back. He nervously looks around before Karen waves at him. She grabs her drink, hops off the stool, and walks over to him. Frank’s heart aches.

This guy is overdressed and looks like a real prick. He loves that she decided to bring this guy to this shitty place, make him squirm, a test of sorts.

They only sat a few stools down. He had a perfect view of them and could make out most of their conversation. Frank scoffed quietly to himself when the guy tried to order a martini. The bartender looked at him like he had two heads, so the doctor just ordered a rum and coke instead.

Himself. That’s all this guy was talking about with her. Frank could read Karen’s face - she was bored and unimpressed. This guy wasn’t for her, he knew that after seeing him in the first second.

How a man didn’t want to find out more about a woman like Karen Page is beyond him. Not wanting to find out her hobbies? Not wanting to find out her ticks? Not wanting to find out what caused that tiny scar by her ear? Or why she hums when she concentrates too hard? And if anything else makes her hands tremble slightly like they do when she stitches him?

Frank can’t take his eyes off of them. His night of recon is officially lost. Karen subtly downs the rest of her drink and excuses herself to the bathroom. He watches as she pulls her cell phone out right before disappearing into the back; no doubt to call that friend of hers and bitch about this guy. He smiles to himself at the thought.

The doctor orders a second drink for Karen while she’s gone. Frank sips his own, keeping his eyes on this guy. A quick look around is preceded by him dumping a tiny amount of powder into the new drink and stirring it quickly.

The anger that instantly shoots through Frank’s veins is almost too much as is proven when he hears a crack and looks down to see he squeezed his whiskey glass a little too hard, sending a jagged line down the side.

Unfortunately he knows he can’t kill this guy, not here, and not with Karen several feet away. He abandons his drink and his stool and walks over, sitting where Karen was.

“This seat’s taken.” The asshole declares.

Frank faces the forward, arms resting on the bar. He ignores him and instead uses his knuckles to push Karen’s drink towards him, “Drink.”

“What?”

Frank still doesn’t look at him. He speaks low and threatening, “You heard me, you piece of shit.”

“I don’t know what you’re fucking problem is buddy, but you…”

At that, Frank turns to face him, banging his fist on the bartop.

“I ain’t your ‘buddy’, asshole. You’re fucking garbage. How long you been drugging women?”

His eyes go wide at the question, shocked that Frank knew or saw. He starts to stutter out a bullshit explanation when red starts seeping into Frank’s view.

Keeping one arm casually on the bar, Frank grabs his gun, keeping it hidden under his jacket and cocks it. The man’s eyes look down to see it pointed right at his crotch. As the man goes to jump off the stool, Frank hooks his foot around the leg of it, trapping the doctor’s leg too, and pulls it a little closer.

“You fucking listen to me, understand?”

The man nods quickly.

“You’re going to drink every last drop of this. Then when she comes back, you’re going to lie and say you got called to go back to work. You do whatever you need to to get the fuck away from here. You contact her again, I’ll kill you. You hearing me?”

The man nods again, scared. 

With a quick motion of his head to the drink, “Now do it.”

The man grabs the drink with a shaking hand and starts drinking it.

“All of it, shithead. Let’s go.”

He finishes the drink quicker then looks at Frank.

“I’ll be over there. You do anything off script and I’m following you out of here.” He tucks the gun away and goes back to his original seat, sipping his whiskey from the cracked glass.

Karen walks back out about a minute later. Frank can see she’s flustered, definitely having given her friend her thoughts on this god awful date.

Just as she sits back down and is about to order herself a second drink, her date pipes up.

“I have to go. I, uh, actually got called to go back to work. An emergency…they need me immediately.”

Karen just nods at the man’s rushed explanation, “Sure, okay.”

The doctor stands tossing any bills he has in his wallet on the bar. He steals a fast, nervous glance at Frank before stumbling and leaving the bar.

Karen’s eyebrows raise when she sees he dropped three $100 bills on the bar. Her eyes then move up to see Frank, looking straight ahead, sipping his drink.

She walks over, sitting next to him, “Was that you’re doing?”

“I don’t know what you mean, Ma’am.”

“Frank…” she tries again.

“I didn’t say anything to Dr….” baiting for his name.

She rolls her eyes, not believing him, “Rojas.”

Dr. Rojas at New York Presbyterian. Noted. He’ll be seeing him again soon.

“Sad to see him leave?” Frank jokes, a small grin on his lips.

She sees his face and can’t help but chuckle, “Not exactly.”

Frank turns to face her, “You feel like going on a second date in one night?” When she gives him a quizzical look, he adds, “I could go for some coffee. Figured you could too.”

Karen smiles, eyes lighting up, “Yeah I could. Get me out of here,” she teases, nudging his knee with her own.

He puts a hand on her bare knee, freezing her, “My pleasure.”


	7. Meet Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before they even started filming The Punisher and before we even knew Deborah would be in the series, this was a scene I had thought up of how Kastle would meet again after the scene in the woods

Karen tries to remain strong. She tries to keep up her stubborness, but she makes it about 2 months before she caves. She makes the drive to that shack, that damn shack in the woods where he left her behind. He’s not there. She notices tire tracks so she figures he’s been there recently. 

She has nothing else to do, so she sits on the rickety, wood steps out front. She’s there for about an hour when she hears footsteps coming from around the side, she stands up in case it’s not who she thinks it is.

Frank rounds the corner. His eyes widened for a second, the only indication of surprise he gives.

He has a beard now and he’s wearing a gray, flannel shirt. He’s carrying a few pieces of chopped wood.

“Frank…” she says softly.

“Ma'am.” He doesn’t sound angry so that makes her feel a little less nervous.

“I lied…to you…to myself…” She sees him furrow his brow slightly in confusion.

“You can’t be dead to me if I can’t stop thinking about you.”


	8. Rain

Karen loves the rain.  So much so that one night when it’s pouring out, she leaves her window open enough to be able to hear it, but not enough that it pours in.  She sleeps with her head at the foot of her bed since it is closest to the window.

 

She wakes from her sleep when she hears a thud.  As she turns towards the window she sees the silhouette of a man.  Before she can react with a scream, a hand shoots out over her mouth. 

 

“Hey, it’s just me.”

 

Frank.

 

He takes his hand away and shakes the rain off his coat. 

 

Karen sits up but before she can say anything, Frank cuts in, “What the hell you thinkin’ keepin’ your window open?” 

 

Karen appreciates his concern but she also doesn’t like when he gently scolds her for her own actions.

 

“I love the rain and I wanted to be able to hear it.” She states matter-of-factly.

 

Frank looks at her.  He can’t believe she said that.  He’d save it for another time to share, but Maria loved the rain too.  She too liked to listen to it. 

 

“No sarcastic comment for me?” Karen asks.

 

Frank shakes his head, “Won’t hear one from me ma’am.”

 

“So why the love of rain?” He adds.

 

“I don’t know…I guess from camping as a kid.  My dad would take us all a few times a year.  I used to love when it’d rain.  We’d all run into the tent and if it was still early we’d play card games or just talk.  If it was dark already, we’d all go to bed but regardless, I always paid attention to the sound of the rain against the tent and against the ground outside.  I found it comforting.” 

 

Frank rarely got to hear about her past, he figures the same way she rarely hears about his.  So when she shares memories, he’s always intrigued and pays close attention.

 

                                                            _________________

 

 

Karen’s working on an article at her desk in her apartment.  It’s late so she only has the desk lamp on.  She hears a knock on her window before hearing it open – she knows it’s Frank.

 

“Grab your shoes and come with me.” He says calmly.

 

Karen looks at him, confused, “What? Why?  Is someone coming after me?”

 

Frank shakes his head, “I’d be packing a bag for you as we speak if that was the case.  Just wanna show you somethin’.”

 

Karen does as he asks and puts on her slippers.  She takes his outstretched hand and follows him out the window and up the fire escape.

 

When they get to the roof, she sees it. 

 

A tent.

 

She looks at him in disbelief, a smile growing on her face.

 

Frank gestures to the tent, “We better get inside, we have about…”  He checks his watch, “…two or three minutes before the rain starts.”

 

They both enter the tent, leaving the flap open. 

 

Karen sits cross-legged as Frank sits down next to her, his legs stretched out, leaning on his hands behind him. 

 

Frank glances at her, “Figured you could use a break from writing.”  

 

Karen smiles.  She believes that may be part of the reason, but she also knows just how caring Frank can be and how thoughtful.  She leans over, kissing his cheek, “Thank you, Frank.”

 

As the rain starts, picking up fast, Karen closes her eyes and leans her head back, a smile on her face at the memories it brings back.

 

Frank takes that moment to look at her, to see her happiness. 

 

If she only knew that he’ll do anything to give her moments like this, of pure bliss.  


	9. All Yours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karen’s body is it’s own comfort for Frank.

There were days like this. Days where she’d get home and neither of them would really waste any time in touching the other.

Karen turns from putting her purse down and taking off her heels, and Frank is already right in front of her. Her face is gingerly grasped by those strong hands of his and he’s slowly placing kisses all over - her eyebrows, the sides of her nose, her cheeks, just every inch of her sweet skin.

She grasps his forearms and smiles to herself. She missed him. Just the hours at work are too long for her to be away from him. She always misses him.

He finally kisses her properly. When she pulls away, she moves his hands from her face so she can take one in her own.

She leads him to the bed they share and gently pushes his chest so he sits on the edge.  It’s easy to see in his dark eyes that he needs her, needs to see her, all of her.

Frank gets like this sometimes. He’ll be in the mood, but it’s also about looking at Karen’s body. Almost like he needs to see that there’s still something pure that exists, that not every body is drenched in blood lying in a dark alley somewhere.

She slides the zipper of her skirt down and when she grips the sides to slide it off, his hands are over hers. She looks at him.

“I got it.”

Karen slips her hands out from under his and watches as he slowly slides the skirt down her legs; she steps out of it when it reaches her ankles and he lightly tosses the fabric to the side.

His hands each touch a calf and slowly run up her legs. The calloused pads of his fingers giving her goosebumps. He admires every inch of her like she’s a statue made just for him.

As his hands reach the top of her thighs, he slides them around the top, sliding up to palm her ass.

He grips each cheek tenderly as he pulls Karen even closer so she’s right between his spread knees.

Her hand slides through his hair as his hands slip in under the hem of her blouse, sliding it up to her waist.

She feels the hairs of his short beard below her navel right before she feels his lips.  Just a feather light trace of a kiss.  Then it’s his forehead pressed against her, right below her chest, with his hands keeping her blouse up.

Every breath that leaves his nose tickles as it crawls along her skin. He just stays like that, in some odd resemblance of a hug. She just runs her hand through his hair because he needs this sometimes. Needs to enjoy the soft, smooth feeling of a woman’s body. It’s a comfort that was ripped from his life that day in the park.

When he finally leans back, his mouth is back at it. He places soft kisses all along her lower abdomen.  He stays in one sensitive spot by her right hip - his teeth nip the area delicately before she’s feeling the pleasurable feeling of it being lightly sucked, with kisses in between.

She inhales sharply when he starts. He uses one hand to keep her blouse lifted as his other arm wraps around the back of her thighs, holding her in place.

Karen’s nerves are on fire and the feeling spreads lower down.  

When he finishes marking her, he places a lazy kiss over it. A final seal of approval.

This time she holds up the front of her shirt as Frank’s fingers sneak between her skin and the fabric of her panties, he moves them down about half an inch, stopping just before her sweet spot.

She feels her breath catch in her throat as his warm breath hits her. He grazes his nose along the edge, his mouth skimming along her core, over the fabric.

“…Frank” she breathes quietly.  Without realizing it, she bucks her hips forward, ever so slightly, an invitation of sorts.  But he notices and that’s the cause of his smirk.

Next, the back of his finger brushes over her down there, his eyes looking up and finding hers.

He only sees Karen’s eyes for a split second because his touch has her leaning her head back and a quiet moan slips out of her.

When she looks down at him, he’s still there waiting to see her.  She leans down and kisses him, and it awakens him more.

Without breaking from her, he stands up and has her back against the wall before she knows what hits her.  Both her hands go to his belt, impatience taking hold, but Frank grabs them and holds them up against the wall on either side of her head; palm to palm, fingers moving against his, a hint of interlocking.

She pulls away and playfully narrows her gaze at him. She sees that gleam of mischief in his eyes, the only tell she gets.

When he meets her halfway to take her lips again, she moves her head back. Her slightly parted lips a prize for him to get.  This time it’s he who narrows his stare, but she sees the slightest hint of a smile as the corner of his mouth turns up.

He slowly closes the gap between them. His own parted lips, brush up against hers. His, just for a second, slightly close on her top lip in one of the most shiver-inducing, almost kisses, she’s ever had.

He lets one of her hands go to tenderly grasp the side of her neck. His thumb sweeps across her lower lip before resting on her throat.  She feels his finger just caress the column of her throat as he looks between her eyes and her lips.

Karen will never be afraid him. Even as he literally has her by the neck, those hands of his that could no doubt squeeze, crushing her windpipe - she knows there’s no chance in hell he would ever do that to her.

Then she notices, his eyes stay on her lips, but he’s not there. He has a far-off look to him and this has happened before too. She loses him for a second. He gets lost inside his own head, she never knows if he’s replaying a killing he’s done, or seeing his family, or lost in a different war-torn memory.  Despite it, his finger never stops moving against her skin.

Her knuckles brush along his beard, “Frank, you still with me?” she softly asks.

The confusion lines between his brows show up for the half second he regains his surroundings. When his eyes find hers, she sees the memory fog dissipate from them, replaced by a small light.

His gruff voice reassures her, “I’m still with you.”

She licks her lips which she sees causes him to swallow, “Good.”

His other hand grasps the other side of her neck, his thumbs gently push her chin up, her throat exposed for the taking.

He nuzzles his nose against the underside of her chin before kissing along her throat. His lips pulse as a manly purr leaves his mouth as he nips at her neck.

When he’s done, she pushes his chest. And knowing he’s letting her move him, she pushes him back to sitting on the edge of the bed. However, this time, she places a knee on either side of his hips, straddling him.

Frank watches as she grabs the hem of her shirt and starts to pull it off; his hands skim her sides, trailing behind the hem as it’s lifted. She tosses the shirt to the side and he rubs his hands over her shoulders.

It’s hard for her not to take notice of the harsh difference of the blank canvas of her pale, smooth skin as opposed to his that’s marked up by scars and scabs. But where most see a damaged individual, she sees a work of art. And where some may see a mismatched pair, she sees two discarded pieces of some screwed up puzzle, that fit oh so perfectly together.

“You know…sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t even put my hands on you. Like I’m tarnishing you somehow.”

Her heart hurts and she wishes she could just get him to see himself the way she sees him.

Karen wraps her arms around his neck, “How many times have you touched me? Do I look tarnished to you?”

His hands run from her hips to her upper back, “Shit, no. You’re fucking beautiful.”  

She kisses him softly, “Always put your hands on me, Frank. Never question that.”  She smirks, kissing his cheek. She feels his cheek move as he smiles.

He kisses her collarbone, moving outwards to her shoulder. He feels her shiver and he knows it’s from his beard tickling her.

He keeps his beard flush with her skin as he moves down to kiss the exposed skin of the top of her breasts. He doesn’t miss the small, breathy gasp Karen gives out as a result. Getting her to make that noise is something he prides himself on.

He unhooks her bra and slides it off her arms, dropping it on the floor.  Then he stands up, holding her to him, and turns around to place her on the bed. As he goes to settle on top of her, she places her foot on his shoulder, stopping him from getting closer, “Clothes off, Castle.”

His gruff chuckle makes her smile as he stands up. He grabs the back of his t-shirt, by the neck, and pulls it up and forward, off his torso. She watches as his arms flex with the movements.

She subconsciously spreads her knees as she watches him.  Frank winks at her before undoing his belt and taking his pants off.

She straightens her legs out as he kneels back onto the bed and leans down. She watches, with anticipation, as his face goes right to her panty clad heat and playfully teethes at it through the fabric. Her hips buck upward at his actions and she moans out, her breathing quickening. He moves up and places a kiss before jutting his chin out a bit and running his beard up her body, stopping at her neck; just like before, her body shivers for him.

His dog tags pool between her breasts as he kisses her neck, his one hand running along the inside of her thigh.

He kisses along her jaw, moving until he captures her lips. As his tongue slips in, his hand cups her breast, fingers kneading.  She breaks away from him to moan, and he just simply moves the kissing to the corner of her mouth, relishing in her sounds.

Suddenly, the bud of her breast is in his mouth and she feels like she might black out from the sensation. The motion of his tongue and the grazing of his beard is a combination that can’t be beat.

Every part of her is arching into him. She can’t help but writhe underneath him as her body tries to contain the pleasure surging through her. It’s when he moves his hand from her other breast and slides it into her panties that she can’t contain it anymore. His mouth is still on her chest and she’s lost in waves of bliss. Karen squeezes her thighs against his hand as it moves, her fingers wrapping around his bicep and grabbing at his hair.  

“Frank, please.” She half whines, half moans.

He eyes her from where he’s kissing her chest and smirks.  

He moves up, watching as her face reacts to what he’s doing down below.  She slides her hand down and grasps his as he continues.  As the full impact of his actions washes over her, she feels like she can’t even catch her breath.

His hand starts at the base of her throat and just glides down her sternum, down her stomach, until he reaches her underwear. She lifts her hips as he pulls them off, kissing her legs as he does so.  She feels the flutter in her body when she watches him discard his own.

Afterwards, she’s lying on top of him. Her legs are straddling one of his thighs as her chin rests on her arms that are folded on his chest. He’s running his hand through her hair repeatedly, watching her.  She brushes her hand over his eyebrow, wiping a stray bead of sweat away.  

She’s not far from him at all, but she’s still not close enough for his liking which is why he says to her, “Get up here” with a grin. Karen smirks and moves; she now has both legs nestled between his. She drapes her arms over his shoulders and tucks her face next to his. He wraps an arm protectively over her lower back and cradles the back of her head.  He turns away from her to kiss the crook of her elbow before turning back to her, kissing the bridge of her nose.

She cups his cheek and kisses his lips. His hand on the back of her head slides into her hair, pulling her closer.  

When they both pull away, he presses a sweet, quick kiss to her lips.

“Don’t leave tonight. Just stay right here with me.”

He presses a kiss below her eye, “I’m all yours.”


End file.
